


When the mirror crashed I called you

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twin Swap, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia Skywalker heads to Dagobah and discovers who she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the mirror crashed I called you

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Through the hourglass I saw you](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6302566).
> 
> Brought to you by the notion that Father's Day in a galaxy far, far away has to be very awkward.

Leia had followed the Rebellion from world to world, hiding from the Empire among forests and glaciers and thick, humid jungles, even a sand-covered world that reminded her longingly of home. She supposed it would only be a matter of time until she found herself on a planet where the ground was more water than loam, and still Dagobah surprised and upset her with each sticky, sucking footstep. Her X-Wing was stuck in the swamp, and if she wasn't careful, she and Artoo would follow.

And it smelled. On Tatooine, plants dried to dust and animals mummified in the arid desert sands. Scavengers picked at flesh before it turned to dessicated leather, and the bodies lay where they fell, as the twin suns' radiation baked the bleached bone. On Dagobah, rot surrounded her, moist and unwholesome. Mold and fungi crawled across every surface, devouring the dead and the living alike, while the swamp drank the corpses and belched out methane in deceptive, dangerous eruptions. Her nose revolted in the humid stench, recoiling from foul mud, decaying vines, and soon, even the smell of her own body covered in filth and sweat.

Naturally, she would meet the most powerful Jedi teacher ever to live while she reeked like a sewer.

Yoda's hut smelled marginally better than the rest of this planet, with odors of cooking food and what tinder he could burn in this puddle. The tidy little house reminded her of the cozy home she'd lost, sending an unexpected pain through her heart. Once she got past his odd manner, Aunt Beru would have gotten on very well with this ancient warrior. They'd have swapped recipes.

"Too full of anger she is," Yoda muttered. "Like her father."

Ben's voice floated through the strange little home. _"Was I any different when you taught me?"_ Leia closed her eyes for a moment, wanting to believe he was here. Spirits lingered in the Force, which meant the people she loved weren't lost forever.

"She is not ready."

"I am ready!" Leia snapped, her temper rising. "Ben, tell him! I've been practicing every day. I can do this."

Yoda fixed her with a stare, and in an instant, she felt him looking through her, measuring her against centuries of his experience and finding her wanting. Generations of Jedi had grown under his care. Who was she to demand the same? She, who always dreamed of running away for adventures?

It took all her strength not to blink nor turn away. "I won't fail you. I'm not afraid."

Later, she would remember his words less than the pitying look in his eyes as he spoke.

* * *

She was there a week before she stopped smelling the swamp. Her nose gave in, as clogged as Artoo's cooling fans. Every day was filled with training of body and mind: balance, focus, control, and sparring with a wizened little creature who jumped around like a demon with his lightsaber. Her muscles ached, she longed for a bath, but Leia had never felt so exhilarated as her powers grew. She could stay here forever, except for one thing. Two, technically.

"A Jedi craves not attachments," Yoda chided, sensing her mind's drift during a long lesson. "A Jedi's focus must be on her task. She cares for all, not one."

She didn't intend to argue the point. "I only wondered how my friends are. When we parted, we were under attack from the Empire. It's been weeks." She didn't think they'd been killed. She'd know. There were times she knew what Luke was thinking, which she took as evidence her powers were growing. He and Han had fled Hoth together, and she'd longed to join them. This took precedence. She had to discover if she could reach her potential.

Inside her heart, she missed them terribly.

Before the attack, Leia had spent the last several mornings waking up deliciously warm, poking Han awake to stop his snoring, and slipping out of Luke's otherwise frigid quarters to change before her shift. If everyone on the base didn't know, she'd be shocked, and she didn't care. The gossipers had wondered which man was her boyfriend. Leia had chosen not to choose. Luke had the most to lose, reputation-wise, but the last Prince of Alderaan had made his own decision not to care. Han was having the time of his life, and gave no damns whatsoever what other people thought. It wasn't a grand romance, nor was it as sordid as a few of her fellow Rebels teased her. It was just warmth, and comfort, and allowing their shared friendship to grow into a richer, more pleasant direction.

Master Yoda taught her to let go of her attachments. Leia would. If she had to. Yes. Definitely.

Eventually.

* * *

The vision struck her as she meditated, sliding between her ribs like a knife. Horrible pain scratched her senses: the torment of an Imperial pain droid, programmed to torture every nerve over and over until the spirit failed or the body died. Leia had never experienced it personally. Luke went pale, just a little, whenever he talked about his imprisonment on the Death Star. For one brief moment, she thought, hoped, _prayed_ this was one of his memories echoing back to her through their strange link. This pain was in his past, and the next time she saw her friend, she'd hug him until he popped.

Darth Vader was torturing Han.

Master Yoda's voice droned far away, telling her to concentrate, and that didn't matter because her friends were suffering. A thousand Star Destroyers couldn't have stood in her way.

* * *

In her haze of agony, wind whipping her brutally, her thoughts lined themselves up only with difficulty. The first, bitter idea to step forward was that Master Yoda had been right, and on the heels of that thought was the understanding this had all been an elegant, vicious trap. Vader had captured and hurt her two closest friends to make her feel their pain and draw her into his web. His spies had uncovered what she'd thought to keep quiet even from the rest of the Rebellion, what she had not quite admitted to herself: how much Leia cared for them both.

She didn't have the energy to shield her friends from her pain now, not with her arm on fire and her body battered. Vader would strike her down, should kill her now. Instead, he was talking, his triumphant tone turned to command. Deadly, victorious, he was offering Leia her life.

"Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

"You killed him. Did you murder my mother, too?"

His mask was unreadable, yet something shifted in his body. Even in her delirium, Leia sensed a change and an unthinkable softness. "You look like your mother." Terror gripped her, an awful premonition of his next words, which she barely heard over the slam of her own heartbeat in her ears.

She shook her head, angrily, blindly. He was lying. He was a murderer and a tyrant, and he was telling her things that couldn't be true.

"Leia, come with me," said Vader. "It is the only way."

She knew what to do about impossible choices. Leia let go of the gantry.

* * *

Her fingers tingled. The med droid assured her it was all in her mind, and Leia had to agree. She could sense pain, which was a defense system of her new hand, and the same with hot or cold. Learning to hold a cup took time and a lot of spilled water. She would celebrate with tea when she had the hang of her new limb. She'd liked to have said she felt it when Luke squeezed her hand, but the pressure was a phantom feeling. She felt his heart more easily, the broken shape matching her own.

"They're on Tatooine," he told her over lunch. "The transmission arrived twenty minutes ago."

"I should join them. Chewbacca's been there before, but Lando won't know the lay of the land."

"He's a fast learner." Luke hadn't forgiven him, not yet. His nerves stretched too raw. A quick smile had reappeared on his face now and then, though, and Leia guessed his sweet nature would eventually win out over the grief. He just couldn't give up his basic belief in the goodness of everyone, even after a lifetime in politics and loss piled on loss. Leia envied him his sunny disposition. Her own felt more like a storm cloud, curling with lightning and ready to strike the first thing to raise its head.

She needed to finish her training, but there was no choice between becoming a Jedi and finding Han. If this was what avoiding attachments meant, Leia wasn't cut out to follow that path.

 _His_ path.

She'd told no one. Luke could tell something was wrong, more than just the injuries she'd sustained. He'd been tormented by the pain droids, but Leia was the one he kept checking in with, asking how she felt, if she needed an ear or an arm. Anyone else would have been grating. Luke just flashed her a dorky smile and Leia couldn't stay mad. She couldn't tell him, though. Darth Vader had murdered his whole world as well as his parents, had hurt him over and over. Leia could only wonder what Vader's plans had been for him had Lando not helped him and the others escape. How could she tell her best friend that the monster was her father? How could she bear watching the horror to creep across his face as he backed away from her in revulsion?

No. She kept her own counsel for now. She would focus on finding Han. Once he was free and safe, she could return to Dagobah and demand answers from Master Yoda.

At dinner, she expected a quiet chat about Luke's day. Instead, she found a light meal at her place and their bags packed by the table. "What's this?"

"You said you wanted to join Lando and Chewie on Tatooine. I've got us transport."

"'Us?'"

"Did you think I wasn't coming with you?" He sat at his own place, at the table they used between planning sessions, and dug into his own quick meal. The lines on his face had smoothed out now that action lay before him.

"I've got my X-Wing."

"Technically, that belongs to the Rebellion." He met her eyes. "Of course, I've already had it requisitioned for your mission."

"Thank you." Now she sat. She'd almost mastered using the fork, and Luke didn't comment when she dropped it onto her plate. "When do we leave?"

"If we couple your ship to the transport, we can go tonight and sleep while we're in hyperspace. We'll be there by morning." Technically, they could do that without coupling the ships. Leia had slept in the cockpit of her X-Wing more times than she liked. This was a nicer way to travel.

"Have you told the droids?"

"Threepio has been complaining for an hour. They're ready."

* * *

They spent the first three hours working on the bones of a plan. They couldn't all go into Jabba's hideout together. They'd be captured together and surely executed together. Piecemeal and in disguise, they might have a chance.

Plan set, but not set, they turned to simpler comforts. Luke's bed was warm and he was kind. Without Han there between them cracking jokes and teasing each with words and more, Leia hadn't been sure she would feel the same spark and passion. The intensity was different, less driving as Luke kissed her, but just as deep. He held her good hand, where she could feel his clinging touch, and his mind reached inexpertly out to hers, seeking the shelter of her thoughts to hide away from his own fears. He loved Han, just as much as he loved her. He lived in a nightmare world where Han suffered every day they hadn't found him. Even if Leia didn't like Han at all, she would do anything to ease that ache in Luke's heart, and she liked Han so much her own heart trembled at the thought of his imprisonment.

Fear and ache were terrible reasons for this, and her sweet release only brought home how little anything could help cure her woes. Han was missing, and her past was in tatters, and all she could do was hold Luke as he shuddered his own pain away for too short a time.

She lay her head against his, listening to Luke breathe. He wanted to sob, and didn't, not ever. She wanted to rage, and couldn't dare, not now.

"Tell me," he said, sleepy and sad.

"Tell you what?"

"It's not just Han that's eating you inside." He rolled, facing her with his hair mussed and his eyes a little wiser than he usually let on. "Is it your hand?" He brought up her artificial hand and placed his lips against one knuckle. "Is it something you learned on Dagobah?"

He watched her openly, accepting her, adoring her. Her handsome prince, whom she'd do anything to protect, had spent his life dedicated to protecting so many others. He wanted to help her, too.

"What if I told you something awful? What if I told you something that would make you hate me?"

"Leia, there is nothing you could tell me that would make me hate you."

"Are you sure?"

He closed his eyes and thought. "All right. You're not who you say you are." A pain hit her belly, cramping and dull with anticipated rejection. "There never was a Leia Skywalker. You're actually Tarkin, who fled and destroyed the Death Star himself for his own reasons."

Her mouth dropped. "I'm not Tarkin."

"All right. There's not much else you can say, then." He brushed her cheek. "You're not Vader, right? Because I think he's taller than you."

The words tumbled out, speeding together to keep herself from bringing them back. "He's my father."

Luke froze. Leia watched his eyes, watched him think, wondered if she'd just lost him forever. "That can't be true," he said after a long moment.

"He told me. On Bespin." She'd clung and she'd bled and she'd hated him.

"He's lying. He's trying to trick you."

"I have to ask Master Yoda. Ben hasn't spoken to me at all since. But Luke, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure he's right." The awful terror had wormed through her, marinating in her self-doubt. "I don't know how. My mother could have been his prisoner or his slave. He said I looked like her."

"You told me your aunt knew your mother." She hadn't even known he'd been listening during that conversation. They'd both been raw, grieving their homes and the people who'd raised them.

"They met once." Leia had absorbed every small mention of her parents that Owen or Beru allowed her. Anakin had been a dreamer and a hothead. Beru didn't even remember the name of the girl he'd brought home. What had become of that young woman? Had she fled with her baby upon discovering her lover was the Emperor's right hand? Had he even known she'd carried his child? Too many questions, including the odd, brittle hope that, given the rest of the lies that shaped her life, even her mother's death could be a lie. Was there a woman out there somewhere, hiding from Vader's wrath and longing to meet her daughter?

A hand found her shoulder, rubbing the scarred skin with a tender thumb. Her horror had darkened her own eyes for a moment, and now she saw his. Luke hadn't pulled away from her, didn't hate her. She saw and felt only compassion. "You've been carrying this alone for two months?"

"I didn't know what to think. I still don't." She let out a breath. "He knows about me now. He'll come back for me."

"We'll deal with him." Luke's tone was light but she felt the confidence behind his words. He'd lead the Rebels into battle. He'd happily stand against his torturer for Leia's sake, and not once worry for his own safety. "You won't have to face Vader alone."

She would. As soon as he said it, she knew she'd have to go, face him down without anyone else. "I do. It's my destiny." The knowledge passed across her face, and Luke's hand chased the pain, stroking his hand over chin and nose.

"Maybe," he acknowledged after a moment. "You might be destined to kill him. Or maybe you're supposed to bring him back to the Light."

That hadn't occurred to her, and seemed unlikely. Luke would, she realized. If he'd been the one to uncover a terrible bond with Darth Vader, he would fret, then he would decide to rescue Vader from himself. Leia's only concern was learning enough to defeat him the next time they battled. She couldn't afford her friend's idealism.

"Maybe." She was happy to avoid this argument for the time being. She kissed him, basking in the warm light she always felt bursting from under his skin. They were so different. She wasn't sure what he saw in her.

"I heard that one," he murmured. "Would you like the list? You're brave, and you're funny, and you have so much passion I get out of breath just watching you when you're focused on something. An hour after we met, I felt like I'd known you forever, and I'm still learning new things about you." His mouth pressed against hers softly. "I'm not afraid of Darth Vader. I'll never be afraid that you could turn into anything other than the wonderful woman I know." He stumbled over the last word, but she heard the one in his head he wasn't ready to say, the word that had already cost him Han. "My father always said you handle one crisis at a time. We'll get Han back, then we'll deal with Vader together."

He was wrong. Leia would stand before Vader without him, if only to keep him safe. Rather than tell him this, she kissed him again, stealing his words away.

Tatooine lay before her, full of memories: the home she'd lost, and the graves she'd neglected to visit these past few years. Luke could accompany her for this sorrowful task. He could hold her as she let herself feel the things she'd pushed to the side all this time, and she could finally set those ghosts to rest, all her questions yet unanswered and perhaps never known. The pair of them would rejoin their friends, and finish the plan to rescue their lover.

For now, she pressed against him, her mouth and hands coaxing him to make love to her again, to idle away their hours together in bitter-flavored joy before she had to face her future alone.

end


End file.
